The fire-fighters threw the buckets from the roof and clambered down after them. But all who went up did not come down. Several had been shot by the enemy, and lay dead on the ground between the fort and the palisades.
Now every one believed that the fort was doomed to destruction. The clapboards on the western roof were blazing furiously, and cinders were falling among the besieged. The light added to the ghastly scene; but the settlers stood nobly at the port-holes and more than one shot proved the death-knell of a foe.
All at once a peal of thunder, rattling over their heads, shook the fort to its very foundation, and ejaculations of joy burst from every throat.
“God be praised!” cried a woman bursting from the shuddering throng with her babe in her arms. “He is sending the rain to save us. Praised be His holy name!”
A moment later and the storm clouds broke and great gray drops fell splattering in the fire.
The rain was greeted with a hearty cheer that reached the ears of the besiegers, and every faint heart took hope. For a moment the rain descended in scattered quantities, and then it came down in gigantic and irresistible sheets.
“We are saved—hurrah! hurrah!” cried the younger settlers, stepping back from the ports and slipping in the blood and water that covered the puncheons. “Open the well and let the water in.”
Sure enough, the crimson demon was yielding to the deluge, and every one saw in their deliverance the hand of Deity.
“We’re not out of the fire yet,” said Levi Armstrong, calmly, for to him command of the fort had been given by unanimous consent. “After the rain we must fight again, then no roof can protect us—the fire-arrows will drop among us. But we must to work. Remove the ammunition below to a dry place, and let our dead be laid aside and the wounded cared for.”
Brave men sprung with eagerness to the task. Several kegs of powder were carried below, and the loss of the garrison looked after.